


Traje de luces

by lunasenzanotte



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Bullfighting, M/M, Spain, corrida, old Real Madrid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 06:17:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2338211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunasenzanotte/pseuds/lunasenzanotte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raúl is a torero and Fernando falls in love with him at a bullfight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Traje de luces

**Author's Note:**

> Just a drabble written for the footy ficathon.

The moment Raúl González Blanco enters the arena, Fernando forgets to breathe. His world shrinks to the reflections of the sequins on Raúl‘s costume, the flashes of red and the almost tangible animal fear.

He soon understands that it‘s not about the physical power, rather about Raúl‘s power of will. His eyes can do more than any weapon could and the way he moves is almost like dancing, fluid but sure and powerful. He‘s the kind of man who never makes mistakes, who always gets what he wants, who doesn‘t take  _no_  for an answer. 

Fernando claps his hands and cheers with the others, but he’s not really there, he’s not one of the many. He’s in his own little world that can only contain him and Raúl.

*

There is no difference between Raúl in the shiny costume and Raúl in casual clothes, there is no difference between an arena and a dim bedroom, the unwavering gaze is still the same and his moves are fluid but uncompromising. And Fernando forgets to breathe.

Fernando takes off his clothes when Raúl tells him to, hands shaking and lips shivering out of excitement that almost resembles fear. When Raúl touches him, it’s not gentle and unsure, the way first touches usually are, it’s like Raúl is touching something he knows, something he’s owned for a long time. And Fernando knows that Raúl has owned him for a long time indeed.

He lifts himself up to kiss Raúl, who pushes him back into the mattress, gently but adamantly. Raúl goes his own way, it’s him who leads, who decides, who dominates. Fernando has no say in what’s going on but he feels the same excitement he feels every time he watches Raúl in the arena. He touches the other man reverently, fingers outlining the tense muscles, learning his body like he gets to touch an old, rare artifact.

Raúl is quiet and concentrated, dark strands of hair falling in his eyes, a thin layer of sweat forming on his forehead as he moves against Fernando’s pliant body, and Fernando is so turned on it physically hurts, and when Raúl finally wraps his hand around him he screams, completely unashamed, arms reaching up to pull Raúl closer and for a moment Raúl breaks the distance and lets Fernando feel his rapid heartbeat before pulling back and leaving the warm nest of the hotel bed. 

When he leaves, the adrenaline is still pulsing in Fernando’s veins, his mind is still clouded and body boneless. It’s like after every performance he watches. He knows he will feel empty until Raúl comes back.

 


End file.
